


Sea Change

by ReaperWriter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaperWriter/pseuds/ReaperWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma had imagined what their first time might be like.  It had never, in her mind, been like this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sea Change

**Author's Note:**

> While I have enjoyed many fine works of Emma and Killian having sexy times, this little plot bunny wouldn't leave me be.
> 
> Not my characters, no disrespect meant. First time playing in this sandbox.

It’s nothing like she expects, their first time together. After the heat and the fire in that kiss they had shared in Neverland, she had thought that if they ever did reach this point it would be all ripped clothes, and fighting for control. Two strong willed people, too proud to surrender.

It’s a shock then, when it comes down to it. Neal is dead, and they have won the battle at great cost, and lord, she’s tired and she needs to be somewhere quiet. Henry, with his memories back, has gone with Regina, and David and Mary Margaret are at the hospital with the new baby. She almost goes back to Granny’s, but he puts his hand on her shoulder, and she looks in his eyes, as tired as her own, and she goes with him.

The walk back to the Jolly Roger is silent, their hands twined together. He lets her into his cabin and shuts the door softly, then walks over and gently puts his arms around her. Tears fall then, tears she hasn’t gotten to cry and her face is buried in his neck, soaking his shirt. She registers only a little surprise when she feels dampness in her hair and realizing his own breathing is a little hitched, his own grief raw and on the surface.

When she is cried out, he releases her. She takes her shoes off and slips free of her red leather jacket, which he hangs up on hook on the back of the door. She curls up on his bed, and watches as he takes off his boots and his vest, his coat and his hook. He joins her and she curls into his side, her head in the crook of his good arm, his hand brushing through her hair. With the rocking of the ocean beneath them, they drifted to sleep.

Sometime in the early morning hours, she wakes up to find him looking at her, his eyes shining a little. “Killian? What’s wrong?”

She feels the sigh shudder through him, feels his arm tighten around her. “All those months, trying to find a way back to you, I thought I might never see you again. That I would do all I could, and it would be for naught. “ He pauses, then shuts his eyes for a second. “I’m afraid that I’ll wake up, and it will have all been a dream, and I’ll be on the seas alone.”

“You found me,” she says, simply, still sleep dazed. “I’m right here.” Her hand came up, and brushed his cheek, the stubble of his beard under her fingers. “I’m right here.”

He sighed, and then leaned down, stopping mere inches from her lips. “Swan?” he whispered, looking at her with deep blue eyes.

She leaned in, closing the gap, and letting her lips ghost against his. It’s gentle, and sweet, and when his tongue ghosted over her lips, letting him in felt like completion. Even as things turned more passionate, there was still a softness to how he touched her, like she was spun glass. 

Soon, she was naked beneath him, her heart fluttering as he kissed her neck and the swell of her breasts, as his fingers ghosted over her hips and down to the join in her legs. She was already wet for him, and she moaned softly when one finger stroked her before sliding in, finding her tight but yielding.

“Killian,” she breathed, as he settled there and pushed into her slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully inside her. "Please."

“Gods, Emma,” he groaned, holding still inside her. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

In answer to his soft chant she moved a little, and soon they found a rhythm, like the slow rock of a sea tide, their breathing in tune. It wasn’t fireworks and cannon fire. Rather, it was a deep peace and a sense of coming home. 

And when the world unspooled for Emma in his arms, he followed along moments after.


End file.
